


Mutation and Other Theories

by alernun



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mild S&M, Period accurate misogyny, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alernun/pseuds/alernun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the prompt "After Charles rescues Erik, the conversation about who and what mutants are (bonus points if Charles gets way too tech!geeky and Erik is fascinated by the concept, but lost on all of the details.) (Gen or slash is all good.)"<br/>Well babe, be careful what you wish for, b/c this is dirty, cheeky science. Hope you like! Thanks for breaking my inspiration block. :P </p><p>(PS: "/text/" = Unvoiced thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutation and Other Theories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brenda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/gifts).



If you had asked Charles Xavier what he’d thought the day would hold that morning, “getting buggered by the strange male vigilante in a Navy shower” would have been towards the bottom of his list. The mutant called Erik (which was itself an alias so deeply imbedded it might as well have been his real name), had been on the verge of hypothermia even with the wet suit, and was testier than a half drowned cat when the Coast Guard sent them the life raft. Charles had followed him to his quarters to…what? 

To talk, he supposed. To know more. For so long there had only been Raven. How was he to have given this James-Bond-Imitative controller of metal ‘his space’ after twenty-four years of living virtually solitary? 

 

These thoughts raced through his head on repeat along with bits of filth and absolute astonishment when Erik cut him off mid probe, pulled him into the little inlet, shoved him under the tepid water and pushed inside him roughly with a hastily soaped-up cock. 

“Oh-“

”’Oh?’ The metalkinetic half mocked as he began a slow, firm rhythm behind him. “Is that ‘oh stop?’ or ‘oh yes?’ or ‘Oh dear, I should have left well enough alone. “

Charles turned his erupting moan into a laugh. (Erik was good. Better, anyway, than the three or so Oxford seniors he’d allowed thus far). “That…mm-That would be enthusiastic consent. Now carry on, and faster for Christ sakes.” 

Afterwards, there was very little fuss (Charles’s favorite feature of sex with his own kind). They had both come within a minute of each other and Charles complimented this, took the towel when it was passed to him, and got back into his damp jeans. Keen as he was to stay, he knew the value of being the first to make for the door. 

“Cheers,” he said with his trademark cheeky smile, and was about halfway out when Erik held up his cigarette case. 

“You want one?” 

/Why yes, you git, yes I believe I would./

”Yeah, thanks.” 

He spread the towel on the foot of the cot before sitting down and leaned forward, into the lighter ready in Erik’s hand. The telepath wasn’t the only one who’d been somewhat…resolved, by the experience. Where moments ago Erik’s energy had been charged and angry, it now hummed at a low frequency of vigilance and physical contentment. 

“I knew before I grabbed you.” Erik grunted out after his first pull on the cigarette. “You put it in my head. Otherwise I wouldn’t have.”

Charles would have made a joke then. (Something along the lines of ‘I was asking for it wasn’t I?’) But it didn’t take a psychic to see that this was a particularly strong ethical point being communicated. It wouldn’t do to make fun. “Yes. I do that sometimes. It’s part of my mutation. I’m working on controlling it, but as you’ve seen it occasionally has its benefits.” 

A nod. Curt and stiff. Then…”Mutation? Is that what you call it?”

Charles chuckled. “That’s not what I call it, that’s what it is!”

There was a dangerous spike in the hum. He’d have to check his attitude-at least until this one stopped being so feral. “And how would you know Professor?” 

That however, was just too rich. He wrapped his lips around the end of his fag to stop from letting loose anything that could be construed as condescension, and let the danger pass. “Because I am indeed a Professor. Employed even, by the US government at the moment as a consultant. That’s how I ended up on the ship and in the water with you.” He weighed the pros and cons, then winked. Erik’s cheeks crinkled ever so slightly at the corners, and he decided it had been a good gamble. “My specialty’s Genetics.” 

Erik, who had not bothered with clothes after their interlude, stretched out and scooted a little closer, letting his foot run deliberately against Charles’s small belly, right against the waistband of the jeans. Charles suppressed a shudder.  
/My God is he ready for round two or is he just asserting dominance? I really need to read up on my psych if I’m going to play this sort of chess./ 

“Well, go on.”

”Ah, with what?” Charles asked.

Erik’s eyes narrowed with impatience. “With your theory. Like I said. I thought I was alone. Now there’s you and your Marilyn wanna-be sister. Why do you figure?” 

“Oi Marilyn…?! Well. Mutation is a genetic term. We still have a long way to go-ages and ages, in figuring out DNA-imagine having to count every grain of sand on that island out there and then figure out how they make a helix…er, a ladder-but anyway there are certain strains that are more susceptible to mucking up than others. This is how we get things like predispositions for cancer and diabetes and infertility—but also how we get red hair and tall people and nice skin-anyway. Many of us believe that not only is the human genome often an unfinished work on the micro level, but that we still have a journey coming on the macro scale.” 

Erik was practically radiating warmth. This was either due to the closer proximity, or because his body barely contained his energy. (Charles had a devastating, exhilarating suspicion it was the latter. Just how powerful was he? How far beyond the anchor chain could he be pushed?)

”What do you mean?”

”I’m sorry?”

Charles jolted out of his theorizing in time to follow Erik’s hand with his eyes as it reached up and ran itself calmly through his hair. His scalp prickled. “What do you mean macro? Are you saying we’re not done yet? As a species?”

“Yes!” Charles nearly squealed. He’d seen in the ocean that, though brilliant, Erik had had very little formal education. It was exciting to be comprehended. “Yes that’s exactly what I and a few of my colleagues believe. What’s more, we think that the nuclear age-“

”Has sped up the process.” Erik finished. There was another shift-this one not at all pleasant. All at once Erik’s mind curled in on itself, and the physical manifestation was a bitter smile that twisted his severe features. “Well, the Axis lost the war but not the battle then.” The end of this was not voiced, but even with Erik’s natural, introverted shielding, Charles caught it. /Maybe there are others. Maybe we’ll have to fight another war./ 

Charles pretended he hadn’t heard the murmuring, and leaned forward. To be closer. To draw this out. To argue, maybe. “What did you say?” 

Erik considered. Then went farther inward still until his thoughts were unintelligible, and turned his grimacing smirk into a truly beautiful, albeit terrifying smile that showed all his teeth. “Nothing. Are you going to finish that and turn around, or does the Paragon of Genetic Mutation need a break?” 

Charles swallowed, and enjoyed the burning punch to the gut and groin that was this question-command. He stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette on the riveted bed post, and set about discarding the jeans for good. 

There was more-much more, on the subject. He sensed much more of Erik, too.   
He also sensed, beyond the wall, that Erik was someone who would be around a while, despite this butch European machismo he was playing at. And so for now, Charles was happy to indulge. 

”That depends,” he said, “on if you were going to make me.”


End file.
